


Sleep Intimacy (NSFW)

by kozybear



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Missionary Position, Oral Sex, Sleepy Sex, Smut, Tom Holland Peter Parker, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29646855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kozybear/pseuds/kozybear
Summary: Winter has arrived and with it, the misfortune of a broken heating unit. With the dreary weather and long work hours, the only thing you have left to look forward to is your midnight solace with Peter.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader, Peter Parker/You
Comments: 10
Kudos: 61





	Sleep Intimacy (NSFW)

—

The only sounds you could bother to process were the dull thud of the door slamming behind you, and Peter’s words slurring in your ears from the bedroom. The lack of freezing wind coursing through your bones was hardly satisfying as it replaced itself with the almost equally cold, stale air of the apartment.

As you step in, you could barely register the feeling of kicking off your shoes and setting your bag down on the kitchen counter. The soft, ambient lighting shining through the bedroom door practically called your name as you made your way over to Peter. He stood within the door frame adorned in pajama bottoms and a simple cotton t-shirt.

The night had started out simple enough. Typical, since you had the late shift again that Wednesday, and even though he had work the morning after, you couldn’t seem to convince him to get to bed before you got home. Still, his presence was comforting, you had to admit.

Temperature was well below freezing—roughly about 15 degrees that night. Even dressing in two pairs of leggings and the fluffiest of winter coats couldn’t keep you from experiencing the New York chill.

You found yourself leaning into his frame, wordlessly seeping your exhaustion into his warmth. No amount of obligation to your earlier intentions of scrounging up a meal were going to make you move from this exact spot.

Heat practically radiated from underneath his shirt and you’re pretty sure you could fall asleep then and there. You were conscious of his arms wrapping themselves around your figure. It secured the space between you to as little as possible, which was just as fine with you.

His voice found its way to your ears, but the lull of sleepiness was making it difficult to focus.

“Hmm?” your voice hummed in your throat drowsily.

“I said, ‘How was your day, babe?’”

“Mhm…” You mumble, letting the side of your cheek rest on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat, strong and vibrant underneath as you manage to finish your thought, “Let’s not talk about that right now. _Please_.”

He hummed in agreement and, you knew, was more or less okay with it. He knew you worked double-shifts at the hospital to help pay the rent. He knew you usually came back exhausted. And he knew that, especially at this time of year, the combination of long hours and cold nights left you a lot more inclined to sleep than making dinner for yourself, particularly after you pushed off your clothes and changed into something more comfortable.

Appreciating the body heat, you leaned into him with further intention than before, causing him to take as many steps back as needed until you both stopped at the edge of the bed—two fulls stacked atop each other centered against the back wall.

“You sure you don’t want to eat something?” his voice found its way to your ears.

As you looked up, his brows knitted in what could only be construed as mild concern. Glancing back towards the kitchen, you remain glued to his center, as if that would pull any more bodily warmth from his figure to yours. A carry-out box sat in neglect on a rickety table that you two had graciously accepted from the neighbor down the hall. It was one of the few things here you could say you owned.

“Took the liberty of ordering take-out,” he murmured optimistically, expression melting into a soft smile accompanying his arms readjusting themselves around your waist.

His chocolate-brown eyes seemed to hold you in his grasp in more ways than you could think to describe. These tender expressions of care back and forth was what defined your relationship with Peter. Taking turns ordering your favorite restaurant meals, usually whatever the other could afford at the time—even on a tight budget. This time it was Chinese food.

You could feel the shake of your head as you sighed into his shirt. Weariness dragged at your bones, at this point causing your weight to be held up more by him than your own legs. The consistent chill of the apartment only made you even more hesitant to divide yourself from him.

“Sorry Pete, I just want to go to bed.” Your sleepy eyes looked past him to the sheets that promised immediate relief from the demand of staying awake. It was too tempting.

“Alright, yeah. I’m just gonna go clean up a little.” As he began to gently pull himself away, a soft whine parted from your lips in protest. You heard him smile when he responds, “I’ll be just a second.”

The emptiness that replaces his warmth is apparent. You caught sight of him heading into the kitchen to the few dishes in the sink, before you yourself head into the bathroom you two shared to wash up.

The sound of water bubbling in the porcelain sink muffled the clattering of dishes from the other room. You had changed into a comfortable fleece top and sweatpants. In the other room, the faucet stopped. You wouldn’t have heard him if you hadn’t seen him come up from behind you in the mirror. He held his hands around your waist again and nuzzled into your neck as you brushed your teeth.

“Did you save any lives today, hero?” he teased as you leaned forward to spit into the sink.

“Ha, ha,” you responded dryly after rinsing out your mouth. Working in pediatrics, the action wasn’t always so high-stakes. You had reorganized some paperwork files that did desperately need saving, though. Otherwise it was a slow day.

Your hands then worked to undo the tie that held your mass of locks up in a bun. As you did, your hair fell around your shoulders, a sense of relief running through your scalp. Hands worked their way in a light massage, and an alleviating sigh fell from your lips.

Let’s be real. You wouldn’t have asked for it, and maybe that’s why he didn’t bother asking.

Peter’s hands found their way to your shoulders, massaging gently, and you felt yourself immediately lean further into his touch. The way his hands worked in and out, it was dangerously satisfying. His attention to detail was one of the things you deeply appreciated about him. Your eyes closed on their own as you let yourself go. You swore you could practically hear yourself moan.

“Feel good?” The question was hardly necessary, but you nodded wordlessly as waves of relaxation washed through you. It was addicting.

You honestly couldn’t determine how much time passed standing there on the verge of falling asleep. All too soon, however, it was gone. Gratefully, you turned to him, eyes half-closed, and allowed yourself to find his face before kissing him.

His hands fell to your waist again, cradling you closer as a single, well-intended kiss turned to multiple. Thumbs brushed past your hip bones, and you gravitated towards him, lips mutually expressing the longing for more.

Once breathless and divided, his eyes at first met you with playful gesture. But one look at your sleep-filled gaze, and the look in his eyes disappeared, soon replaced by one of understanding. Confirming that he knew as well as you do.

It was definitely time for sleep.

Your pillow could not find your head fast enough as you let yourself plummet down onto the mattress. You half-expected to hear him fall into the sheets next to you, but there was silence. You glanced up to see him near the bathroom door, staring in space a moment.

“Coming to bed, babe?” Your words seemed to meet deaf ears for a moment before he blinked, seeming to clear his head, and his gaze met yours. His eyes went back to normal.

“Yeah,” he responded with a lightheartedness as he made his way over to you, mattress dipping as he laid down. His hands found their way to your waist before pulling you closer to his center.

His breath hit the back of your neck, warm and soft as your eyes closed. His chest pressed to your back, legs intertwined. You could feel the room fill itself with a recognizable stillness, a familiar sense of silence.

Some semblance of time passed. You couldn’t have been sure just how much time had passed, but eventually your tired self stirred.

You could feel his lips at your neck, gentle. In your drowsy state, you hardly noticed them there, he was so careful. Then you heard him speak up.

“Hey babe.”

Peter’s voice brings you back awake. You hadn’t even realized you had begun to fall asleep again.

“Hm?” You turned your head halfway to him, waking from your muddled exhaustion. Eyes fluttering open to meet his own in the dim room.

When met with silent hesitancy, you turned to him all the way, hands naturally working their way to his face. As your eyes adjusted, you could see the shapes of his warm brown eyes in what could’ve been mistaken for a tired state. When you looked closer, could more clearly discern his expression, you saw that it was merged with something else.

“Babe, I know you just came back from work, but…” His hand ghosted along your waist just underneath the fabric of your shirt. It was casual, not really anything yet.

Looking back up, you could see his eyes—a just-slightly tired gaze, the blankness of hours spent at his job. But that wasn’t all. No, they were filled with a deep sense of craving. Of need.

His fingers toyed with the hem of your pajama shirt, seeing his now lustful eyes following up the smooth skin of your waist to your lips. You could see his longing, a hunger in his eyes that he had tried so desperately to fight against, but couldn’t tame.

“Peter…” it sounded hardly opposed as he leaned forward into your lips, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheeks as his hips pressed themselves against yours.

The way his hands worked gently around your hips and waist, kissing you, but in an almost embarrassing hesitancy, you could feel him holding back.

“ _Baby_ ,” his words emerged from between breaths and his eyes met yours with a surprising intensity. His brows furrowed in concentration, enough to hold back and ask in a murmur, “I’m _sorry_ , I know you’re tired but, can we…”

As his words trailed off, you consented with an urgency that moved your lips forward to his again. His fingertips trailed up the fabric of your shirt, exposing it to the chill of the room, leaving goosebumps with it. You could feel yourself shiver as he pulled you even closer.

Calloused palms grazed past your breasts as your arousal grew. You could feel him moving his lips down to your neck, drawing messy kisses along the sensitive skin there. Soon, the lull of sleep was draining from you, and the only thing you could focus on was the growing need between your thighs.

You reached down, letting your hand trail down his abdomen to the curls in the waistline of his pajamas. His eyes closed shut as you found the length of him straining against your touch. The mouthing along your neck and collarbone became sloppy. Taut hips moved in rhythm as his expression became as drunken as his kisses.

Appreciating his handiwork, you brought him up to your lips again before you pushed down to where the hem of his pants were.

“Wait, uh,” he stammered. His eyes fluttered open as he fought to clear his head long enough to speak, “you don’t have to—let me do it baby; you’ve worked enough today.” By the time his words had come through to your muddied senses, he had already draped himself over your abdomen, drawing out open-mouthed kisses that made it hard to breathe.

Soon, not nearly soon enough, you could feel his tongue laving against your folds—you felt your pulse picking up, a sheer gasp escaping your lips as his fingers pressed into you. The way they curled inside you made you want more.

Your mouth became dry as his mouth lapped at your clit, a kind of haziness washing over you as your hips moved into him. He groaned softly as all the heat in your body spilled down to this one spot, in a way that had you struggling to speak in words.

“ _Peter_ ,” his name escaped past your lips in a way separate from the first, fists bunching the sheets on either side. You could hardly keep yourself from squirming from the way he was able to work you. Feeling your back arch, you were sure he could feel the quiver of your thighs as, sooner than you could control, his name vanishing into thin air as a liquid hotness rushed out from the depths of you.

As soon as you could catch your breath, Peter pushed up from between your thighs, having dragged soft kisses across your abdomen to the bottom of your breasts. His gaze showed itself from below, and your eyes closed as you tugged him up to meet your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue as warm breath hit your cheeks.

He groaned softly into the kiss, curls brushing against your forehead. You could feel the weight of his hips on yours, as fingers moved over his shoulders to bring him closer to you.

The weight of his body on yours, the heat of the passing moments into passionate kisses sparked something alive in you, even through the haze of your tired frame. Lips and tongue fought for dominance, the laziness of your sleep-deprived actions suddenly turning more intense.

The slowly lingering pleasure from before was waning all too soon. You felt yourself itching for more, and while you knew his slow pace was out of consideration, an impatience emerged that you hadn’t really predicted. Maybe it was the fact that you were tired, with the way the long hours of your job taxed you. Maybe it was realizing that you were fed up with never asking something for yourself. Regardless of the reasons, you were in deep want of him. And all of a sudden the words leave your mouth sooner than you could realize,

“Babe,” you break away from him long enough to catch his eyes in a deliberate gaze. “I _need_ you inside of me. _Right now.”_

He blinked, the heat of the moment seemingly having him at a loss for words. You could see his Adam’s apple dip as he swallowed. Then, in a moment. A hunger in his eyes lurked apparent underneath a seemingly innocent stare.

“Okay.” He still seemed somewhat flustered, still his expression was more evened out. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Peter’s hands are at your hips. Leaning in to give one last sensual kiss, he eagerly moves to the soft spot right below your jawline. Just as you think you might want to tell him to _pick things up a bit_ , he has you by the waist and the length of him pushed into you, stealing all the breath from you in an instant.

You watch as his eyes glaze over in a haze as he tilts his head back up into your lips, biting hard. Suddenly you’re kissing him, and totally not prepared for the next time he hips move into you—a feeling that has you seeing stars and you can’t help but moan into his kiss.

Feeling yourself clench around him, his eyelashes flutter as his pace picks up, hips grinding deep into yours. It has you running your nails down the length of his back, hurried breaths escaping you.

“ _Babe… God,_ you feel so good—” His voice strained in its huskiness, face buried in your neck--his hands now gripping your shoulders to gain leverage, and the way he plunges into you each time is becoming too much to handle.

As his hips pounded into yours, the pleasure from your previous orgasm was wearing off. You groaned, teeth now sinking into the back of your hand as your clit started to ache from overstimulation. It was all becoming too much—his pace was relentless.

“Gosh _Peter, fuck_ —” Your hips bucked into his as your eyelids fluttered in euphoria. Your fingers came up, getting tousled in the curls near the nape of his neck. He took the opportunity to lift you up by the waist, getting just the right angle that made your toes curl.

Even through the haze of sleep, you could tell—this boy was _very_ good at this. The way he learned your movements, the way your body responded, was anything but understated.

You could feel yourself reaching a point where your body movements mirrored his—anything to further the satisfaction you were already feeling. Aching breaths let out into the air, every movement becoming pure ecstasy from the way he thrusts into you, sending jolts of pleasure all throughout your body.

“Babe, I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum—” he groans as your name escapes his lips.

He leans forward as your hips latch to his thighs, hitting you hard and deep each time. The way his hands are now gripping the sheets on either side of you, the sounds he makes has you reaching a breaking point.

Your words are nearly incoherent as his continued thrusts sends you over the edge, and soon after you could feel him twitch as he moans into your shoulder as he orgasms, kissing you in a way that’s rough, undoubtedly leaving marks.

Breathless and gasping, he falls onto you, looking about equally as wrecked as you felt. He was panting, just as much as you were, his hips still moving into you through his orgasm.

Feeling him press up against your breasts, he had to catch his breath as he crawled up towards you, exchanging soft and clearly exhausted kisses.

As he rolled over to lay beside you, you’re all too eager not to let the warmth of his body heat escape as you curled into his side. His arm pulled you closer, until you’re merely breaths away from each other before pulling you into a long and slow kiss, one that caused your heart to flutter with excitement.

Once parted, his hand ghosted down your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. Through the darkness of the room, you could practically feel his eyes raking over the outline of your body once more. This boy was insatiable.

You could feel yourself grin as your face buried itself into his warm shoulder, affectionate. “Don’t you have early wake up tomorrow, _hero_?”

Planting a kiss on your forehead, you could feel the breath from his nostrils as he smiled. “You’re right. I _think_ I could hold off until then.”

You remember smiling in response, and a quiet exchange of murmurs lingering in the space between you, as the heat dissipated into the cold air of the apartment.

Peter’s arms fastened themselves around you protectively as you shivered, his bodily heat bringing some much needed comfort. You let out a breath before letting the sound of the wind outside fade out, falling into sleep.

As you drifted into a state of mental bliss, you thought you could hear Peter murmur in annoyance, “We definitely need to get that heater fixed.”


End file.
